Park's Tom Thumb

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In good King Arthur's reign Tom's history first begun,
A farmer's wife had sigh'd in vain to have a darling son,
A fairy listen'd to her call, and granted her the same,
But being very small, Tom Thumb she did him name.

To please him every means she'd take,
And a pudding large for him did make;
But in trying to obtain a sip,
Into the batter he did slip !
The batter into the pot went plump,
Tom made the pudding skip and jump!
His mother with afright, did this espy,
And gave it to a tinker passing by ;
Tom scream'd so loud, that in dismay,
He threw it down, and ran away.

Tom to the fields with his mother went,
To milk the cow was her intent;
The wind blew high as they did walk,
So she tied him to a thistle stalk;
The cow the thistle view'd and eropt,
In her month, with Tom it soon was pop'd !
Her teeth pnt Tom in such a fright,
He "mother" bawled with all his might !
The cow, on hearing such a rout,
Opened her jaws and Tom fell out.
Our hero great exploits went through;
His bed was made in his father's shoe :
At length a Fairy by her art,
In a gale, sent Tom to Arthur- court.

King Arthur loved f

good furmenty —
The cook made a
bowl for his majesty,
In conveying it to the

palace hot,
Our hero into the

bowl did drop.
The cook was fill'd

with great surprise,
For the liquor burut

his nose and eyes.
The bowl being broke

the angry cook,
Before the king our

hero took ;
When the king beheld

Tom's auful plight,
He pardon gave and

dubb'd him knight.

Tom in the palace,
lived content ;

To hunt with the king
on a mouse he went:

One day, a cat the
mouse espied,

And soon to catch
him pussy tried ;

Tom drew his sword
and spoilt her treat

By slaying pussy
at his feet.

Thus Tom lived hap-
py — without strife,

Till the queen in an-
srer, sought his life.

In the palace no lon-
ger could he stay ;

So on a butterfly he
he rode away.

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At last, oh direful

tale to tell,
In a spider's web

our hero fell,
The spider ran to

sieze his prey ;
Tom with his sword

fought valiantly ;
Till alas ! the spider's

poisonous breath
Was the cause of our
gallant hero's death
In a bower of roses his

tomb they rear'd,
And on it this epi-
taph appear'd : —

Of life deprived, by
a spider's bite,
Here li s Tom Thumb

a valiant Knight,
His feats in Arthur's

Court, and sight,
Fill'd all with wonder

and delight.
He was bold at tilt

and tournament,
To hunt Avith the king
on a mouse he went.

His deeds were great,
tho' his size was small
His death was mourn-
by one and all.
Then Reader, pause;

one tear now shed,
And cry 'Alas Tom
Thumb is dead.' "

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A, PARK,

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